


sixth place

by tadanoris



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8978377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tadanoris/pseuds/tadanoris
Summary: Competitions are so difficult, so fierce, especially at this level. Someone ending up last is inevitable, but it doesn't make it easier. Giving your all, only to end up behind everyone else– it hurts.Beneath immense pressure and only sixth place to write home about, Phichit breaks. Yuuri offers him a shoulder to cry on.





	

The end of the Grand Prix final goes by in a whirlwind. One second Yuuri finds himself on the ice, listening to the thunderous applause, then suddenly he's on the podium, receiving the silver medal his hard work had earned him.

There's so much going on; people everywhere, flashing lights from cameras, microphones being shoved in their faces. It's tiring but _amazing_ , adrenaline pushing exhaustion out of the way for now. Even though the competition has officially come to a close, there's no time to slow down. The banquet awaits, and as Yuuri enters the main hallway again, he sees Viktor waiting as well.

The man greets him not with words, but with a hug, holding onto him as if they didn't just see each other moments ago. It elicits smile from Yuuri, who eagerly hugs back.

"I can't believe it's all over," he finally says as he pulls back, arms still holding onto Viktor.

"Well, it's not all over. There's still the celebration left."

"You really want to celebrate a silver medal?"

"Any excuse to get some drinks, right?"

"Viktor—"

Viktor just chuckles, "I'm kidding— of course silver is worth celebrating. And next time, it'll be gold, right?"

Yuuri smiles, "Right." The future may still remain uncertain, but for now, Yuuri is content living in his moment.

Around them, people mill about, some even taking pictures of the pair, but neither of them pay attention to that. In the distance, Yuuri spots Yurio making his way out, probably already headed to the hotel. He can see some of the other competitors as well, holding bouquets and flower crowns, some still being interviewed while others are hugging their coaches or significant others.

And at the end of the corridor, Yuuri sees the back of a familiar figure, _Thailand_ written across the jacket in large letters.

"Phichit!" he calls out with a smile, but his friend simply keeps walking. He could blame it on the distance between them— that Phichit simply hadn't heard him— but he had seen that slight pause in his steps, the jerk of his shoulders. Phichit had definitely heard him.

Yuuri's expression falls for a moment, remembering that not everyone had been lucky enough to make it to the podium— that someone had been unlucky to place last. This might be the first time he's skated in such a large-scale competition alongside Phichit, but he has a feeling he knows how his friend is feeling now. After all, he's been there too, only a year ago.

"I'll meet up with you later," Yuuri tells Viktor, already slipping out of his arms.

Viktor, already having followed Yuuri's gaze and spotted Phichit as well, gives Yuuri an understanding smile and one last squeeze of his hands. "Just don't be late for the banquet," he tells Yuuri, though it's obvious in his tone that he won't be mad at Yuuri if he ends up late.

Yuuri gives one last nod before turning to leave, feet taking him in the direction he had seen Phichit go. In all honesty, he'll gladly miss the entire banquet if needed. Phichit is far more important than getting drunk and embarrassing himself again in front of fellow ice skaters.

He easily finds the room Phichit had slipped into; a changing room at the far end of the corridor. Yuuri hadn't even known that there was anyone using it, seeing as there were changing rooms closer to the main hall which were easier to access. It was far quieter here, with less people standing around.

It seems as if Phichit is the only one using this particular room, the man currently sat at the edge of a bench with his back to Yuuri. At the sound of the door opening, Phichit instinctively looks over his shoulder to see who had come in, looking surprised to see Yuuri there. The surprise on his features quickly gives way to an excited smile as he stands, greeting his friend with a cheerful, "Congrats on the silver, Yuuri!"

Before Yuuri can reply, he suddenly has his arms full of Phichit, who's eagerly hugging him.

"You even set a new record!" Phichit says as he pulls back, still grinning, but his eyes look just a _tad_ bit too shiny, his smile a little strained. Yuuri doesn't comment on it. "I'm so proud of you— I knew you were going to do well!"

Yuuri manages a smile of his own, and though it's much more reserved, it's no less genuine.

"You did well too," he says, and though he really does mean it— Phichit's performances had been nothing short of _amazing—_  he almost regrets the words when he sees Phichit's face fall for a split second. It happens so quickly, any other person probably would have missed it— in the blink of an eye, his smile was back again. Truthfully, it's both impressive and annoying how good Phichit is at keeping up his mask, his upbeat attitude. It's what makes Yuuri worry about him.

Phichit may be a naturally happy person, but even he needs to let himself feel sad.

"Thanks!" Phichit chirps like nothing's wrong, letting go of Yuuri to go back to his bag. "I'm really glad I managed to get this far, y'know," he continues with his back to Yuuri, "And I even got to skate to _Shall We Skate?_ in front of so many people! Grand Prix really has been a dream come true."

Something within Yuuri aches. He can tell that Phichit is trying to see the light in a rather frustrating situation— that he's forcing himself to remain positive in front of Yuuri to keep him from worrying, as if he's trying to reassure Yuuri that he really is fine. Even back in Detroit this was something he would do despite Yuuri's protests; keep his smile up no matter how upset he actually felt.

"You were amazing out there," Yuuri tries again, aching to reach out and give Phichit some kind of comforting, physical touch.

"We all were!" Phichit replies, his back still facing Yuuri. His hands are still rummaging in his bag for something, but at this point, Yuuri is pretty sure Phichit's just doing it for an excuse not to face him. "Both you and Yurio managed to beat Viktor's records— that's so amazing. I wonder how Viktor feels about it; he must be proud too, right?" Finally deciding that he's been occupied with his bag long enough, Phichit stands upright again, still facing the wall. "And I'm glad JJ managed to make such a good comeback! He was even beneath me after the Short Programs, yet he managed to get third place, that's amazing."

Yuuri doesn't say anything, only takes a couple of steps forward, listening as Phichit's voice wavers. His heart aches for him. "But he is the king after all, so I'm not surprised! He really did try his best till the end."

"You did too," Yuuri says gently, and for a moment, Phichit is quiet. Yuuri almost begins to wonder if it had been the wrong thing to say, when Phichit gives a quiet chuckle, nodding. When he finally speaks, his voice is just a little too shaky, a little too choked up to pass for normal.

"Yeah, I did. I really did try my best. I gave it my all."

Yuuri takes another step forward, close enough to reach out and place a reassuring hand on Phichit's shoulder. "Your performances are something to be proud of. You really made those songs your own. You did what only you could accomplish."

Phichit nods again, this time remaining silent. Yuuri's brows furrow in worry.

"You gave everyone a show they will remember, Phichit. Everyone loved it."

Shakily, Phichit draws in a deep breath. His hands form fists by his sides, clenched tightly. "Then why... did I end up last?"

The words seem to slip out without much thought, and he can see Phichit's shoulders tensing as he realizes what he had said. Yuuri knows Phichit doesn't like showing his own negativity, but even he wasn't capable of keeping it under wraps forever. Even Phichit broke down sometimes.

There's a quiet sniffle and then— all at once, the dam breaks and Yuuri moves forward to give Phichit a much-needed hug. Phichit seems to tense up at first, but he quickly melts into the embrace, hands desperately clinging onto Yuuri as tears slip out. "I ended up last— _last_ — I was supposed to bring back— g-gold. I was _supposed to—_ "

His voice disappears into a mess of sobs that wrack his body, tears staining Yuuri's jacket, but Yuuri couldn't care less about that. Yuuri's arms tighten around his friend, feeling tears of his own prick in his eyes.

"—Represent Thailand and all of— S-Southeast Asia, I was supposed to— I couldn't—" The words are choked out, as shaky as Phichit's form. Yuuri feels bad for admitting it, but it has never really gone up for him how much pressure his friend had been under. Of course, all figure skaters knew the pressure of representing their country and making their people proud. Yuuri knows the feeling all too well– but he wasn't the only one representing Japan in big competitions, just like Yurio wasn't the only one representing Russia.

Yuuri remembers hearing Phichit gush about it, back in Detroit— talking about how excited he was to represent Thailand, as well as all of Southeast Asia. Unlike East Asia, there were only a handful of people representing the southeastern part of the continent, and none of them ever went far in the Grand Prix Series. Phichit was the first, bearing the Thai flag with pride and a wide grin— alongside a massive pressure Yuuri never truly would understand. Phichit had always spoken of his home country with such joy, he had never considered how hard it would be to represent a nation alone.

"You were amazing, Phichit," Yuuri says, cutting off Phichit's breathless rambling. "You were amazing out there and everyone's _so_ proud of you. You've gone above and beyond everyone's expectations— so don't think that you've let anyone down."

Yuuri knows that's easier said than done. He knows he can say all these pretty and comforting words, but believing in them is difficult— he knows that better than anyone else, but he'll keep repeating himself until Phichit believes him. He truly is a talented figure skater and a great friend. Out of all people, Phichit really didn't deserve to be anything but truly happy.

Seeing Phichit cry like this is so rare— Yuuri is pretty sure he can count on one hand how many times he's seen Phichit cry out of actual sadness. Sure, he's seen him cry during movies, or cry from laughing too hard— but Phichit so rarely cries like _this_. He's not like Yuuri, who would cry when he got too homesick, or after a particularly exhausting day of practice. Phichit keeps his sadness private, wrapped deep within himself for no one to see.

But then sometimes, in rare moments like these, it slips out. Tears and sobs and breathless words, clinging to Yuuri like he's a child; and Yuuri doesn't blame him. He's been there too.

Competitions are so hard, so  _fierce_ , especially at this level. Someone ending up last is inevitable, but it doesn't make it easier. Giving your all, only to end up behind everyone else— it _hurts_.

"I'm sorry," Phichit suddenly says, voice muffled as his face is pressed against Yuuri's chest.

"You don't have to apologize for crying."

"I'm— making your jacket all wet and gross."

"I don't care. You can cry as much as you'd like, it's okay."

The words elicit a quiet whimper from Phichit, his hands grabbing onto Yuuri even tighter. There are still quiet sobs coming from him, making his shoulders shake, and Yuuri runs a hand up and down his back in a comforting manner. It's almost odd being the one doing the comforting, as it so often has been the other way around. Even if Phichit is younger and shorter, he is usually the one with his arms around Yuuri, telling him that everything will be okay— and Yuuri always believed him. There was just something in his voice— kindness so _genuine_ , that it compelled him to believe that everything truly would be alright in the end.

Yuuri wonders if Phichit has ever believed in those words himself, if he's ever been able to cheer himself up as well as he helps Yuuri.

"It's okay," Yuuri says again, "You'll be okay."

As the words slip out, Phichit seems to realize how unusual this situation really is, and he pulls back slightly. To Yuuri's relief, there's a small smile playing on Phichit's lips. It's small and shaky, but still there. "You're pretty good at comforting people."

"I learned from the best," Yuuri replies with a smile of his own. "But I really do mean it, you know. You were amazing out there— you have nothing to be ashamed of."

Phichit sniffles, straightening up as he wipes his tears away. "I know. I— I really _am_ proud of myself, I know I did well, I just—" He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I'm still disappointed in myself. But—!" He cuts Yuuri off the second the older man opens his mouth to interrupt, holding up a finger, "It'll pass. I'll feel better soon, I just needed that moment to feel bad about myself, I guess. And I'll probably need some more time too."

"Crying can help a lot."

Phichit's smile grows, "I'm sure you know that better than anyone else."

Yuuri just smiles back, knowing fully well how big of a crybaby he is. "Yup."

Just as Yuuri thinks Phichit is about to pull away, Phichit leans back in to give him a tight hug, face buried in his chest again.

Even with his voice muffled by the fabric of his jacket, Yuuri hears the kind words of gratitude, fragile and quiet, as if any wrong move will be enough to break the man in his arms, "Thank you, Yuuri."

Everyone needs their moments of weakness, of fragility and hurt. Moments where they don't force themselves to remain strong and tall; moments where they cry out of frustration and sadness. Yuuri hopes that Phichit understands that, and he really hopes his friend knows that he'll be with him through all those moments.

A tender smile gracing Yuuri's face, he hugs back, trying to convey the message through actions alone. "No problem. You'll be okay, right?"

Phichit nods, and looks up at him again. There's something in that gaze, that tells Yuuri that Phichit understands. It only makes his smile grow wider. "Next year, I'll be standing on the podium with you."

"Promise?" Yuuri grins.

"Promise. Just don't be mad when you get silver again— I'll be the one taking gold next time."

**Author's Note:**

> me?bitter about my son getting sixth place????.....a lil bit  
> nyanyways im back at it again with more sappy+sad one-shots!! will i ever write an actual multi-chapter fic or even just a two-shot???...probably not OTL
> 
> as always feel free to hmu on tumblr @ tadanoris!!!


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